11 Frozen in Time
by MissDoctorDonna
Summary: Another snippet from my Brothers series. It's photo time for the boys and Vin needs some sartorial guidance from our ever dapper gambler, Ezra. Set after Seeking Gilt in the Silt.


"Might I have a quiet word, Ezra?"

Looking up from where he was idly perusing the clothing section of a catalogue, Ezra smiled graciously at Gloria Potter and replied, "Why, of course, Mrs Potter. It's always a pleasure to converse with a lady such as yourself."

Shaking her head, even as her lips quirked into a rueful smile, Gloria thought again how lovely the southerner's manners were and thanked the good Lord that he was passing those manners onto her children by example. Pushing that aside, she waited until Ezra stopped before her and then leaned a little closer to whisper, "It's about our Vin."

Concern flooded the gambler and he asked, "What about Vin?"

Looking around to make sure they wouldn't be overheard, Gloria said softly, "He ordered a suit and collected it, but…"

Eyebrow raised in surprise, Ezra relaxed a little that it was such a trivial matter and prompted the blushing shopkeeper, "But what, Gloria?"

Gloria's hands, that had been wringing themselves nervously, suddenly delved into the pocket of her voluminous apron and she thrust a piece of paper into Ezra's hands, blurting, "That's it."

Both eyebrows now raised at the woman's odd behaviour, Ezra looked down and smoothed out the piece of paper in his hands in order to see what all the drama was about. "Oh… oh my! That's…"

"Exactly. You see why I'm concerned. I'm sure he got it for the upcoming photographer's visit, but…"

Nodding slowly, Ezra traced the image on the paper delicately and cleared his throat, asking, "Have the items I ordered arrived, perchance?"

"Oh yes, they all arrived the day before yesterday and I've got them here for you. I took the liberty of having the shirt laundered to get the 'newness' out of it," replied the storekeeper with a knowing grin, bustling around to gather up several brown paper wrapped packages. Having been torn over whether or not to bring the subject up with the southern gentleman, Gloria was vastly relieved to find that he held the same concerns as herself now that it was out in the open.

Tipping his hat to the kindly woman whilst silently thanking the fates that she was as concerned about Vin's welfare as he was, Ezra gathered his packages saying, "Thank you, my dear lady, you need have no further concern. I will speak to Mr Tanner."

Sighing with relief, Gloria nodded and smiled as the genteel southerner turned to leave. Suddenly remembering the other matter that she'd intended to bring up, she called, "Ezra!"

Turning back politely, Ezra quirked an eyebrow questioningly.

"Is everything set up for the photographer?"

A wide smile spread over Ezra's face as he came back towards her and replied with some excitement, "Oh yes. Mr O'Hare has arrived and set up a small studio in the hotel sitting room, where people can come by appointment to have a sitting. I believe that Mr Heidegger's eldest girl, Gisela, is keeping a list of people and the times they're to sit. I have booked him for this afternoon to take some portraits of myself and the other seven and Sunday is his day of rest. Then it will be the opening day of the Bakery on Monday so he will be engaged there, but from Tuesday and through to the end of the week, he will be taking photographs of anyone who wishes to sit. Mr O'Hare will then utilise the special 'darkroom' he has set up in the basement of the hotel to produce the photographs ready for collection the following week."

"It's all very thrilling, Ezra. I'm so very thankful to you for providing the town with this opportunity," offered Gloria, coming over to squeeze Ezra's forearm. "The children's grandparents will be thrilled to see how much they've grown."

Blushing, the southerner patted the shopkeepers hand and murmured, "It was nothing at all, I assure you."

Extricating himself from the woman, Ezra fled to his room with a hasty tip of his hat to the women who had just entered the store and looked to be interested in engaging him in conversation.

Vin stood in front of the long mirror in the gambler's room, twisting to look at himself from all sides. The pants were a little large in the waist and short in the leg, but he had a belt and didn't think anyone would notice the legs if he wore dark socks. Tugging at the too large vest, he then pulled the tie, trying not to liken it to a hangman's noose. It felt too tight and suffocating but he was sure he'd tied it the way he'd seen Ezra tie his own countless times. Reaching up, he tried to smooth back his unruly curls, which were still slightly damp from the bath he'd taken before trying on his new clothes, dragging his fingers through them to pull the hair back. Pulling a face, he reckoned he'd have to cut his hair to make it behave properly. Letting his hands drop to his sides, he huffed in despair as he took in the overall image before him and realised that he looked as ridiculous as he felt. Adding insult to injury, when he looked down, he saw that the big toe on his left foot was poking through the sock he'd just bought!

Opening the door quietly, Ezra took in the sight of Vin standing with his head hanging and his shoulders drooping disconsolately. The suit was of a good quality, not the best but not cheap, but to Ezra's expert eye he could see where it needed some tailoring. The pants needed nipping in at the waist and the legs needed to be let down in the cuff, both the vest and the jacket needed taking in with perhaps a couple of darts in the back to fit them properly, and the tie was clearly not suited to the tracker. Watching silently, he saw Vin heave a huge breath and reach a shaking hand towards the scissors on the dresser. Wondering what the tracker had in mind, Ezra's heart leapt to his throat when Vin reached up with his free hand to grab a handful of his hair.

"Vin! No!"

Spinning the scissors in his hand to hold as a weapon and assuming a fighter's stance, Vin spun towards the door only to relax and grin sheepishly upon recognising his brother. Looking down, he remembered the suit and looked away from Ezra, blushing furiously and mumbling, "Jeez, Ez, scare a man ta death, why don'tcha?"

Moving into the room and taking the scissors from Vin's lax fingers, Ezra replaced them on the dresser. Going back to stand in front of the forlorn younger man, he lifted Vin's chin with a finger, asking, "What's wrong?"

Unable to put into words what he was feeling, Vin shrugged and tried to look away from the knowing, emerald green eyes that could read his heart better than anyone.

Seeing that he was going to have to coax the issue out of his shy brother, Ezra let go of Vin only to start fussing with the tracker's suit, saying, "This is a very nice suit, Vin. Is it new?"

"Ya know it's new, Ez," growled the tracker, bracing himself to be mocked. Hoping to get in first, he fluttered his hands around himself and mumbled, "Know it makes me look stupid. Pants too short, jacket's too big 'n tha tie's all wrong… cain't make a silk purse out o' a sow's ear… shoulda known better'n ta think a scruffy, skinny tracker could be fancy like… "

Blinking in comprehension as Vin stumbled to a stop, Ezra murmured, "Fancy like what? Fancy like a gambler? Fancy like me?"

Nodding and blinking furiously, Vin cursed the tears of humiliation that were stinging his eyes and making his throat and chest feel tight. Wishing he could ride out into the wilds where no-one cared what he wore or how he looked, he shuffled his feet and cursed his lack of experience with the niceties of society. Lifting his hand to try and smooth down the overlarge vest, he sniffed sadly and remembered how nice it had looked in the catalogue.

Stroking a hand down the trembling arm of the Texan, Ezra urged, "Why on Earth would you suddenly want to dress like me, Vin? You've always seemed quite content in your own apparel."

"Fer ther picture! I know ya getting all o' us ta pose fer tha man when he's here, so's we can all have a photograph o' tha family. Then all tha fella's was talkin' 'bout what they's gonna wear 'n how they's gonna get a picture o' themselves taken on their own and who they's gonna send it ta," burst out Vin, pacing around with sudden energy as the anguished words poured forth, "They's all wearing fancy clothes, even Bucklin says he's got a fancy coat 'n vest ter wear. JD's always in a suit, Josiah says he's got an old suit he bought in Eagle Bend last he was there, even Chris's scrubbing up… Don'tcha see, Ez? Iffun I's tha only one in ma normal duds, I's gonna stick out like dog balls in custard. 'N I was thinkin' o' getting ma picture taken so's I can send it with a letter ter ma aunt 'n Pa's friend 'n maybe give one ta Miz Nettie. But I want ta look nice. I want ta look like someone Ma and Pa would be proud of… not some no account, scruffy, dirty, long-haired drifter."

When Vin paused, Ezra opened his mouth to reply, only to shut it again when Vin continued.

"So I got me this suit from tha catalogue, but it's all wrong 'n I don't look like I thought I's gonna 'n I don't know what ta do. Ma hair's all wrong 'n I can't get it ta straighten, so I's gonna haveta chop it off, but I don't want ter chop it off and.. and… and there's a hole in ma brand new socks!"

Eyes wide with shock at the flood of words and emotions from the normally taciturn man, it took Ezra a few moments to realise that Vin was truly finished this time. He took a deep breath, since he felt that someone should after that impressive diatribe, and then simply hugged his distraught brother. Feeling Vin's head thud onto his shoulder with a muttered 'aw, Ez', he chuckled lightly and patted Vin's shoulder consolingly as the younger man leaned against him.

"Y'all buy suits from tha catalogue at tha Potters' store 'n they look like they's made fer ya. Why's mine all wrong? Did I order tha wrong size 'r somethin'? I thought I done it right 'n Mrs Potter didn't tell me no different."

The plaintive query made Ezra's heart clench. Given how competent the younger man was when on the trail, or dealing with the miscreants in town, it was easy to forgot sometimes how young Vin was and how inexperienced he could be with certain aspects of life. Vin considered himself lucky to be able to buy new clothes at all and had never had to have the rough work shirts and sturdy pants that he bought tailored to fit him. More often than not, he wore hand me downs, or second hand clothes bought the Potters that had been sold by widows and those down on their luck. They still had plenty of wear in them and he preferred to buy the cheaper used clothing and keep his money for the lean times or, more likely, give it to someone he thought needed it more. If these clothes needed adjusting or mending, then the Texan fixed them himself or made do. Tightening his hold, Ezra wished again that he could erase all the hard, lonely years of poverty and deprivation from his young brother's life.

Responding to the increased pressure, Vin brought his arms up to circle the gambler's waist, curious as to what he'd said to prompt Ezra to cling to him. Having gone for so long without physical affection, Vin was now like the cracked, dry desert floor, soaking up the hugs and handshakes of his brothers like the ground soaked up the rain.

Clearing his throat, Ezra released Vin and guided the younger man so that he was standing in front of the mirror with the gambler behind him. "Vin, this is an excellent choice of suit. The reason it doesn't fit you quite as well as my suits fit me is that I take my new suits to Miss Tennant after purchasing them and have her tailor them to fit me."

A feeling of hot, prickling shame enveloped Vin as he realised yet another facet of normal life of which he was ignorant. Looking up at being poked, he whispered, "Didn't know ya could do that. Thought Miss Tennant just made stuff from scratch, or patched up tears 'n bullet holes 'n such."

"There's no reason you should know, Vin. It's not a service you've ever needed, since most of the clothes you buy fit you just fine," soothed Ezra, rubbing a hand up and down Vin's arm, knowing how much comfort the young Texan derived from physical affection. "This suit will look marvellous on you, once Miss Tennant has let out the hems of the pants a little and streamlined the vest and jacket. But that will take time, so it may not be ready in time for the photographer."

Disappointment filled Vin's face and he started to shrug out of the jacket, saying in a tight voice, "Ain't much point ta keepin' it, then. Ain't likely ta wear it fer anythin' else. Might as well see iffun Mz Potter'll take it back n' try ta sell it ter somebody else..."

"Nonsense. We'll take it over and have Miss Tennant work her magic on it, then you and I might take a trip down to N'Orleans sometime soon and see some sights wearing our finery. You've mentioned wanting to travel there and ride the riverboats. Of course, we'll probably have to take JD and where JD goes, Bucklin goes. Chris probably wouldn't want to let us out of his sight, so he'd have to come with us. Nathan wouldn't believe that we could travel that far without needed his skills and then there's Josiah, who seems to have taken it upon himself to guard mah person…. We'd have to arrange with the Judge to have someone cover for us all...," rambled Ezra, as he methodically stripped Vin of his new attire, leaving the man shivering a little in his long underwear and wondering what the hell his brother was up to now. Holding the suit jacket out and carefully folding it, Ezra hook his head and brought himself back to the task at hand.

"A dark suit such as this is always good to have for formal occasions such as weddings or funerals. Given the way JD and Casey are going, you may need just such a suit in the not too distant future. Or there's Nathan and his paramour, Miss Rain. Although I believe their nuptials will be a slightly less formal occasion and wouldn't require such finery," fussed Ezra. Running his thumb over his lower lip, he decided to throw caution to the wind and make his offer. "Of course, I had planned to have everyone wearing their everyday clothes for our group photograph. I want it so that we can remember how we looked when we met and having us all spruced up in it will defeat the purpose. But since everyone is wearing their best, I suppose we must also. I also think that your idea of having an individual portrait done is an excellent one and I believe that Mrs Wells may also like a sitting with you, since she's all but adopted you."

Vin had been looking happier at the thought of not having to dress up, but sobered again at the last sentence, causing Ezra to hurry on.

"Now, I'm not saying the old crone will want you all 'gussied up', as she so charmingly puts it, but I imagine she'd like it if you were wearing something a little more formal yet still feeling and looking like yourself," Ezra continued, going to pick up the packages and offer them to the tracker, "So I took the liberty of ordering these with the last shipment of garments for myself. I think you'll find them … suitable."

Mixed feelings coursed through Vin as he slowly took the parcels. Ezra was always buying him stuff and he'd stopped feeling proddy about the gifts now, knowing that all the southerner wanted in return was his happiness. A certain giddy joy enveloped him whenever he realised that he had finally found someone who enjoyed just making him smile, through kind acts, soft words or little gifts. Sinking down to sit on the bed, Vin undid the first bundle and pulled out a fine linen shirt that smelled just like the rest of his shirts did when he got them back from being washed. He looked at Ezra questioningly.

"Mrs Potter thought you'd like to wear it right away, so she had it laundered to take the newness out of it," explained Ezra, coming to sit on the other end of the bed, facing Vin.

Nodding, Vin carefully set the shirt aside, running his fingers over it lightly once more in wonder. He'd never owned anything that felt so fine. Then he opened the next bundle and withdrew a pair of dark brown trousers, that had a black stripe up the outside of each leg. These were placed next to the shirt and the third bundle resulted in a fine pair of soft brown leather boots being set on the floor with care. The fourth parcel held a vest of bronze silk, with a pattern of Texas bluebonnets embroidered on it in blue silk thread that shimmered slightly, drawing a gasp of wonder from the Texan. Shaking hands opened the last parcel, revealing a hip length dark brown coat made from sturdy material that would last and keep him warm.

"Ez…"

Seeing that Vin was choked up, Ezra stood and pulled the younger man up, stating imperiously, "Come along, let's try them on. They should fit as I sent your measurements to my tailor in Eagle Bend when I ordered them."

Looking up from where he was buttoning his shirt, Vin gasped and stammered, "They's made from scratch?"

Smiling softly at this brother's innocent wonder, Ezra stood holding out the new pants, replying, "Yes, Vin. I had them made especially with you in mind."

Twenty minutes later, standing in front of the mirror again, Vin stared in stunned amazement at the transformation as his hands delicately traced over the embroidered material of his vest. The clothes fitted him perfectly, even the boots felt comfortable. Ezra had combed back his long hair, using some pomade to tame the curls, so it was now sleek and tied back with a thin piece of leather at the nape of his neck. The only thing he felt was missing from the ensemble was a tie. Tearing his gaze away from his reflection, he watched Ezra mutter and rummage around in a small wooden box that he'd taken from his dresser drawer.

"AHA! I knew it was in this box somewhere," exclaimed Ezra, holding something aloft in his fisted hand and snapping the lid of the box shut triumphantly. Putting the box back in the drawer and shutting the drawer with a bump of his hip, the gambler strode over to where Vin stood and showed him a string tie. "I've had this for years. I won it from a rather dapper gentleman who owned a mine somewhere in California, when we were indulging in a hand or two of poker in a gambling hall in San Fransciso. The man had appalling card skills, but exquisite taste, so I happily accepted this as part payment. The stone actually came from one of his mines. I've never actually worn it though, preferring green or red gems…"

Vin stood still as Ezra pulled up the collar of his new shirt and put the tie on him. Trying to catch a proper look at the bolo tie, he fidgeted as the gambler fussed with his collar. Finally the southerner moved away to stand beside his younger brother with a satisfied smirk and gestured to the mirror.

"It's perfect, Ez," breathed Vin, tentatively touching the slide of the tie. It was a silver concha-style slide with a dark polished gemstone that shimmered with blue and brown stripes set into the centre, the cord was so dark brown it was almost black and had been finished with decorative silver tips. "What's tha stone?"

"A type of quartz, called Hawk's Eye, I believe. Similar to Tiger's Eye, but much more blue thanks to a lack of iron in the area in which it's formed. It's found in mines in California, here in America at least, as well as other countries. An old oriental gentleman I once knew told me that wearing it near the throat helps you to speak effectively and honestly – not that you need help with honesty as I've never known such a soul as yourself for the inability to obfuscate," replied Ezra, chuckling at the thought of Vin needing help with remaining truthful, as he lightly brushed some imaginary dust from the shoulder of Vin's new coat. "Mr Chin also said that Hawk's Eye helps relieve back or neck problems, protected travellers in hill country or mountains, and could help the wearer to find the courage needed to trust one's inner wisdom or the intuition to follow one's own path. I believe that I probably need that stone more than you, my brother, but I still wish you to have it."

Grabbing Ezra's arm in the warrior's grip that he usually used with Chris, Vin swallowed hard and nodded his thanks. Looking back at his reflection, he grinned in relief. No-one would be ashamed to be in a photograph with him looking like this and he suddenly couldn't wait.

"C'mon Ez, it must be just about time ta be getting over ter tha hotel. Don't want ta keep tha other's waitin'. Ya know how Larabee growls n' I don't want him scowlin' in ma photograph."

Laughing, Ezra hurriedly changed into his own new suit of clothes and gave his clean cut visage a quick swipe with a damp rag before running his comb through his hair and dabbing on a modest amount of cologne. Deciding he looked as good as he was going to, he hurriedly followed the uncharacteristically flustered and animated Texan out of the room.

Arriving at the hotel, both decidedly red in the face from the quiet and not so quietly uttered compliments they received, Ezra and Vin pulled up short as they found themselves face to face with their five brothers. All were kitted out in suits and most were wearing their Christmas shirts. Chris' suit was black of course, but worn with his new green shirt and a Kentucky Gentlemen's tie he looked less like an undertaker; Buck was wearing his best pants with his red shirt, a black vest and a new dark brown suit jacket; JD had on the suit he'd worn to his mama's funeral, that was cut quite like his everyday one but in black fabric; like Buck, Nathan had his best pants on along with his Christmas shirt and a new vest and jacket; and Josiah was resplendent in a brand new suit that actually fitted his generous frame, unlike the last disastrous time he'd bought a suit when trying to impress Emma Dubonnet.

A loud wolf whistle rent the air before Buck drawled, "Whooooeee, Vin. Don't y'all scrub up purty! Almost didn't recognise ya, stud!"

Blushing a fierce crimson, Vin lowered his head and wished he had a hat to hide behind, as he retorted, "Well, hell, Bucklin. No need ta be jealous, even iffun I's younger 'n better lookin' than ya."

Pretending offense, Buck made to chase the tracker who promptly slid behind Ezra for protection.

Rolling his eyes at their playfulness, Ezra held his hands up, asking, "Gentlemen, please! Can we not even pretend at being civilised? Just for an afternoon?"

A tiny, birdlike man hopped into the room, wearing a bright green houndstooth suit, a waxed moustache that seemed to encompass his entire face and a bright smile. Clapping his hands gleefully, he made his way to Ezra with a light springing step.

"Mr STANDISH! Delightful to see you. And looking so very handsome! Are all of these gentlemen the brothers you spoke of? A more dashing lot, I've never seen, to be sure. I'm sure you all cut quite the swath with the fair ladies of this town. Now, do you have any idea of how you'd like to be posed?"

Stunned by the sudden appearance of the energetic Irishman, most of the seven stood stock still and eyed the newcomer warily. Vin sidled around to keep Ezra between himself and the stranger, whilst JD grinned at hearing an accent that he missed from Boston. Chris may have growled slightly.

"Mr O'Hare, it's a pleasure to see you and I'm most grateful that you could come and see us here in Four Corners," replied Ezra jovially.

After three hours, the men were all looking forward to escaping in order to find some comfortable clothes, a steak dinner and a beer – not necessarily in that order. Ezra and the photographer had posed them all in many different variations, some sitting, some standing, different variations of groupings and finally a portrait shot of each man on his own. As soon as they'd had their single portrait done, the man in question fled from the room, leaving Ezra as the last to pose. Just as he was about to leave, Josiah came in carrying Maude.

"Mother! Are you well enough to be out of the clinic? Where's Archie? Does he know that Mr Sanchez has absconded with you?"

"Relax before you give yourself apoplexy, my boy," wheezed Archie, coming into the room clutching a soiled handkerchief. "Your dear mother is quite well enough to sit down and have her photograph taken. It won't take long and then we can take her back to the clinic."

"Ezra, darlin', come and sit with your mothah," beckoned Maude, patting the cushion beside her on the small couch. Taking a lacy handkerchief from her sleeve, she delicately patted her face to remove the sheen of exertion and pain. Pinching her cheeks to try and get a touch of colour in them, she smiled sweetly at her son as he sat beside her cautiously. "I want a photograph of the two of us together and this is the perfect opportunity."

Sitting still and letting his mother fuss with his tie, Ezra rolled his eyes as Josiah and Archie chuckled.

The photograph emerged from under the black cloth of his camera and chirped, "All ready?"

Pulling herself up straight with a supreme effort, Maude schooled her features into a pleasant, relaxed smile. Ezra, who hated the formal, still poses usually adopted in photographs, smiled his approval and then turned to beam at the camera. Maude reached out to rest her gloved hand over Ezra's hand as it rested on his knee. With a bright flash and a cloud of smoke, the moment was captured.

Slumping against her child's broad shoulder, Maude breathed out slowly, trying to control the pain that flared in her still healing side.

"Maude? Are you ready to be getting back to the clinic?"

Looking up at Josiah with a wan smile on her pale face, Maude replied, "Yes, Josiah. I am definitely ready to lie down again."

Archie had moved over to take Maude's pulse and check her respiration. Pleased to see that she was holding up well, he nodded for Josiah to once again pick up the conwoman.

Tapping the shoulder of the man carrying her, Maude called to Ezra, "Mary Travis will be helping me this evening, Ezra. If you should care to stop in to say goodnight, I would suggest around nine o'clock."

Nodding and smiling, Ezra called back, "Of course, Mother. I shall see you then. Archie, would you stop and have your image captured for me? I should like a momento."

"Well, I'd be honoured, my boy," exclaimed the doctor happily, fussing with his coat and vest. Sitting on the single chair, he grinned brightly at the camera as Ezra stood proudly beside him, his hand on his shoulder. The smoke that was the result of the flash induced a coughing attack, so Archie made his spluttered apologies and left soon after the photograph was taken.

Bidding the sprightly Sean O'Hare a good evening, after asking that he develop the images as soon as possible to make sure that they could be retaken if they didn't work, Ezra made his way to the restaurant to join his brothers for an evening meal. Happy in the knowledge that he'd had most of his family immortalised, the gambler whistled cheerily as he made his way along the sidewalk, nodding to anyone he encountered. He was still working on Miss Adelia, who was vehemently against having his photograph taken, but he knew he'd charm her eventually.

Entering the restaurant, he was hailed by all six of his brothers and he hurried to join them for another boisterous meal. Life was good. Life was very good.


End file.
